Tuesday, April 12, 2005
We're havin some technical difficulties.
"It'll never grow that way!" says Giblets. "You have to use at least a fifty and douse it liberally with water and mulch."
"I only got a five," says me. "I figured we could fatten it up till it turns into a bigger denomination."
"You talk crazy talk!" says Giblets. "All you will have in the end is a fat five dollar bill with a morbidly obese Lincoln!"
"Oh no!" says me. "I don't want my money to have an increased risk a heart disease an diabetes!"
"We should get Chris to invest in our money tree," says Giblets.
"I dunno if Chris believes in the project," says me. "Chris is a skittish investor."
"Then we borrow it from him retroactively," says Giblets, "after his money grows into a mighty money oak!"
"That's a great idea!" says me. "I was all worried we'd have to do somethin weird."
We'll be back when we fix these technical difficulties.
posted by fafnir at 4:12 PM
Friday, April 8, 2005
Oh no! I have been kidnapped - kidnapped by judges run amok! For years they been usin their terrible laser-beam eyes an super-strength to hold the Constitution hostage but now they're takin over the world startin with ordinary mainstream Americans like me. Who can stop them now!
"I have powers beyond reason!" says Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor destroyin the National Guard with her judicial fire breath. Florida circuit judge George Greer laughs an uses his mind beam to topple the Empire State Building; the Avengers are crushed. I do not know how judges have become this powerful but I believe it involves mysterious cosmic radiation or the yellow sun of Earth.
"Kneel before Greer!" says Florida circuit judge George Greer. I am forced to kneel on accounta Congress refuses to set limitations on his kneel-forcin powers.
"Oh you won't get away with this judges," says me. "Tom Delay will stop you an save the day!"
"Who is this Tom Delay?" says Judge Greer.
"Oh you'll find out an when you do!" says me.
"Come to me, Tom Delay!" says Judge Greer. "I defy you! Come and kneel before Greer! GREER!"
Oh, where is Tom Delay! Why isn't he savin us! Tom Delay! Can you hear me? Where are you! Where are you!
posted by fafnir at 6:12 PM
WHOOM! A blast of light and pastry fills the night sky. There's a whiff of fresh cookie crust and cream filling, but a cream filling unlike any known by man or nature. It is an unidentified baked object, rising over the city. The pie has landed.
Be careful! This is no earth pie. It is a moon pie, filled with alien cream from beyond the stars ready to invade you with flavor. Has it come in peace? Is it the first in a wave of hostile desserts here to conquer earth with overwhelming alien sweetness? No. It's a pie! It has come to spread strange new tastes from an advanced enlightened civilization. This pie will blow your mind.
Scientists say we should welcome the pie cause such an advanced and tasty pastry has to be peaceful, but the military doesn't trust it. Anti-moon pie pies are quickly baked in secret Pentagon oven silos where they have waited ever since the recovery of the downed Roswell recipe in 1947.
You don't just want to eat this pie. You want it to take you back to its strange an beautiful homeworld where man and pie have learned to live in peace so you an the millions of enlightened new age freakout pie-children are makin a stand against the army an the metal pies of The Man. The secret army pies do not care: they crush past you with their riot shield pie-plates, armed with overpowering mackerel custard, spinach rhubarb, frog lime surprise. They attack the defenseless moon pie and are instantly destroyed by its pure overwhelming deliciousness. The crust is everywhere; children are traumatized for years.
Someday earth will be ready for the lessons of the moon pie. But for today you wave a sad farewell as it floats back off into the night sky. Do not give up hope, pie-watcher! The moon pie lives in all of us. Look inside yourself, and reach for it! Reach for the pie, pie-watcher. Reach for the pie.
posted by fafnir at 12:34 PM
Thursday, April 7, 2005
Arthur Silber has a donation week going. Or had. We are "fashionably late," or as some people would say, "over a week and a half late," on posting this. But showin up the day after the party's over just makes you even cooler.
Late as we are, Arthur still could use some cash. He's a good writer and a good blogger. Check him out if you haven't already.
posted by fafnir at 5:44 PM
I'm Fafnir today just like always, but just like always I am also the elk. Not just any elk, or your favorite elk, or the elk president. Today I am all of the elk. Today I roam the land in herds, thunderin across the grassy plains. But first I will have to find exact change.
"State Street please," I says to the driver when the bus opens up. It takes a while for me to get on board on accounta there's a whole lotta me. Some of me are too big to fit through the door, so I just gallop along the route while the rest of me reads the paper inside.
For lunch today I think I'll have some grasses an shrubs, or some pizza. I am watchful for predators and notice the bear at the local Starbucks but it is occupied with smaller prey and for the moment can be safely ignored. Tomorrow I will be an emu, or a squircle, or the Establishment Clause, or an elk, and won't be as worried about elk things. But today I am the elk, and I thunder across the grassy plains.
posted by fafnir at 2:25 PM
If a blog feeding frenzy falls in the forest before it has the chance to destroy a reporter's reputation, does anybody care? Hell yes! Giblets didn't get a piece of the action when the getting was good! There's still a vast reservoir of paranoid bile to be tapped into if we just reach for it!
Giblets will come right out and say it: Mel Martinez (R-FL) is secretly a Democrat in a clever plastic disguise, fiendishly planted by the international Leftist-Media-Islamist conspiracy just to make Republicans look bad! Giblets wouldn't be surprised if Tom Delay weren't in on the act, too, committing "fraud" and taking "bribes" just to make the rest of the party look shamelessly corrupt. Is there nothing liberals won't stoop to!
Giblets must conclude that Washington Post reporter Mike Allen knew about this all along, and is thus one of them - and therefore must be destroyed by severing his head and stuffing his body with garlic.
The forgery of the forgery is a forgery! Bigfoot lives! The truth is out there!
posted by Giblets at 11:48 AM
The Squishless Horde of Giblets arrives at Sam's Club to collect Giblets's regular tribute - 100% off all electronics, paper goods, movies, bulk vitamins, Miracle-Gro and sugared cereals. The horde must grow large and strong upon the fat of wholesale America!
What's this? The horde is met by a small bald man who interferes with Giblets's constitutional duty to levy and collect tribute who also implies that hordes are prohibited. Insolent fool, none may prohibit the horde! The horde's most most feared weapon is unleashed - the Loaf of Doom! - and within moments our opponent swiftly relents, admitting Giblets to Sam's supplicant servants. Excellent, my minions! You serve Giblets well!
The horde is directed to Molly in customer service who is quite helpful and polite. Apparently it is "company policy" to refuse the Gibletsian tithe. What madness is this! Such insolence will not go unpunished! Sam himself will be laid low before the might of Giblets, crushed and broken by the Squishless Horde! And when his innards are displayed upon my battlements, every Wal-Mart in the land will surrender its bounty of hearty Count Chocula cereals! To war! To war!
posted by Giblets at 10:10 AM
You have to hand it to Camille Paglia. Well over a decade after actually mattering, this warrior of the word still maintains the intellectual fortitude to starfuck anyone from Rush Limbaugh to Matt Drudge while protecting the English language from the ravages of her erstwhile creation, the blogosphere, in an interview promoting her “next major work,” a collection of other people’s poems titled - no doubt with some restraint - “Break, Blow, Burn.” The Medium Lobster eagerly awaits her magnum opus, in which Paglia sets herself on fire atop an immense bronze reproduction of her own head, the immolation of which will consume Wotan, Valhalla, and the whole of creation.
posted by the Medium Lobster at 9:48 AM
We're goin back down for a couple days 'til we finish the thing we always work on whenever we go away for a couple days. We are really darn close this time! All we need now is fifty yards of green cloth, a tuning fork and a potato-powered electrical clock.
Some of us may go on hiatus from this hiatus. We are not that organized.
UPDATE: Hiatuses are lame! Twenty posts a day from now on! Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fafstapundit!
posted by fafnir at 6:45 AM
Tuesday, April 5, 2005
The precis of the final report of the Medium Lobster Commission, reporting on the failure to accurately determine Saddam Hussein's weapons capabilities in the months preceding the Iraq War:
America's intelligence agencies made thorough and grievous errors in their assessments of Iraq's weapons capabilites. For example, in the 2002 National Intelligence Estimate, the line "Saddam Hussein is made entirely of poison and can launch fifty fusion warheads from his perpetually-flared nostrils" should properly have read "No nukes here, nothing to see, all done now." The commission has concluded these were wholly the result of clerical error, most likely a typo or a severe paper jam.
The CIA's secretary, Mrs. Bigglesby, has been given a stern talking-to. Further, the commission strongly recommends that the intelligence community double the number of proofreaders currently on staff, as well as update its spellchecking software. As of publication date, the National Security Council was still using Word 98; updating to Office XP would, according to sources at the commission's local Staples, reduce the number of future preventive wars and massive unilateral invasions by up to 50%.
The commission did not investigate who ordered these intelligence assessments, or who, if anyone, read them, and is not particularly interested in theories as to who did.1 The commission is only interested in intelligence in the abstract, which is most sublime at the precise moment of its creation, when it most purely reflects the Form of Intelligence itself. Whoever might use it, whatever it might blow up, is insufficiently fascinating to us.
Later this year the commission will investigate whether or not one hundred thousand Iraqi corpses were the product of a misplaced carriage return.
1. Among suspects floated by third parties have been the Rosicrucians, the weak nuclear force, and the reclusive sasquatch. The commission rules nothing out.
posted by the Medium Lobster at 12:43 PM
"You lied to Giblets!" says Giblets. "You said they were just takin the Pope out to the country to live on a nice farm!"
"Don't think of the Pope as bein dead, Giblets," says me. "Think of him as a flower, or a butterfly, or a mime doin a really convincin impersonation of a dead pope."
"Where will Giblets be without his Pope?" says Giblets. "Whose pope hat will I steal? Whose Vatican will I deface? This morning Giblets hijacked the popemobile for ol times sake - and it filled my soul with nought but empty dross!"
"Hey I know what'll cheer you up," says me. "How bout we play a game! A game called Talkin Bout Somethin That's Not The Pope."
"sniff. Okay," says Giblets.
"So, today I was at the zoo, see," says me. "An they had all these fish."
"Fish like the Pope used to have!" says Giblets. "Oh, how Giblets misses his Pope!"
"The Pope didn't have any fish," says me.
"Sure he did," says Giblets. "He had the Holy Mackerel and the Monkey Eel of St. Peter. They will be destroyed upon his successor's election."
"That's a terrible thing to do to good fish," says me.
"It is all part of the mysterious cycle of Popes," says Giblets.
"I'll tell you what Giblets," says me. "We'll go down to the conclave tomorrow an pick you up a brand new Pope an you'll like him even better."
"Giblets doesn't wanna new Pope!" says Giblets. "Giblets wants his old Pope!"
"You should give the new Pope a chance Giblets," says me. "You can still do everything with the new Pope you did with the old one: fight him, make death threats. You can even start up a new Pope Death Watch!"
"Hey, you're right!" says Giblets. "The Pope before the last Pope kicked the bucket in a little over a month! This next one might only take a week!"
"See, there's the spirit!" says me.
"I'd better get started right away!" says Giblets. "This new Pope isn't slippin past Giblets! When mortality finally squeezes the last dregs of life from his limp and doddering veins, Giblets will be there to seize the Supreme Popepower for himself! And then Giblets will be unstoppable!"
"There you go!" says me.
"Giblets feels better already!" says Giblets. "To the papabile! Giblets has the fat and decrepit to taunt!"
And we are once again filled with the purpose of the spirit.
posted by fafnir at 8:12 AM
Saturday, April 2, 2005
posted by fafnir at 7:14 AM
Friday, April 1, 2005
So me and Fafnir are at the Vatican visiting the Pope - visiting in triumph, for the Pope is nearly finished, and with him Giblets's ages-long anti-Pope rivalry!
"He looks so serene," says Fafnir.
Yes they are all serene in the end - it is part of the life cycle of Popes. But this too will pass, and then the chrysalis stage, and then the locusts. And then where will you be, Pope? Then where will you be!
"Then he will ascend into the stars, into Popevalla," says Fafnir. "Where the honored Popes go who die in battle."
Impossible! The Pope has not slain nearly enough orcs. No, the Pope is like all holy men, kings, and insectivores - dishonored by enmity with Giblets! Oh, there were glory days to be sure, back when me and the Pope fought atop the volcano, or the time we teamed up to stop the Martians. Heh, Giblets remembers this one time me and the Pope got totally wasted and turned everything in the house into the body of Christ. That was awesome! Or the time Giblets got him to venerate Pius XII as a practical joke. Good times, Pope. Good times.
Aw man. Giblets is gonna miss the Pope. Don't go, Pope! Don't go!
posted by Giblets at 12:42 PM
Thursday, March 31, 2005
So a buncha pointy-headed sciencey types are all upset because we're "using up resources" and "destroying the world." Well, boo hoo hoo! Do you hear that sound, sciencey-types? It is the world's largest violin playing just for the exhaustion of our natural resources. The violin is made entirely of mulched rainforest and played by enormous smoke-belching engines of steel and concrete, standing a thousand feet tall in glorious tribute to the undying achievement that has been man's rape of the natural world! Tomorrow it will be scrapped and replaced with a newer, bigger violin with built-in wireless and dolphin-exploding capabilities. Excelsior, my children!
"Oh but Giblets we will run out of resources and the world will end and oh what will we do." You mean what will you do. Giblets doesn't need the world to last forever. He just needs it to last longer than he plans to use it. By the time the smog-choked Malthusian apocalypse comes Giblets will be long gone, either escaped in a rocket to Mars or happily expired in the midst of a gluttonous week-long oil binge. Those suckers from future generations can sweat it out trying to make a hemp-powered plane or edible plastic - serves 'em right for bein' born in the future! In the meantime there's only so much food, fuel, land, and water to go around, and Giblets is gonna use up as much as he can before any other Gibletses can get their grubby little hands on it! Fire up the engines! Pump up the nitrates! Giblets wants to stuff a panda full of coal just to watch it burn!
And when future civilization does collapse into the dust of a ruined earth, where will all those good-hearted squishy sensible scientist types be? Dead, that's what. They will not last five minutes in the post-apocalyptic hellscape with their "conservationism" and their "respect for life" and their "zombie rights." It will take someone with the experience and amoral fortitude of a robber baron to bludgeon, plunder and cheat his way across the new American wasteland - someone like Giblets! Yes, Giblets and his people will proudly roam the last, reaping the dregs of the blasted, sun-scorched earth as the last chance for mankind's survival - and enter the realm of legends! They will call us strong. They will call us glorious. They will call us Republicans.
Labels: our world and how to kill it
posted by Giblets at 9:16 AM
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
This week marks the release of Roberts’s and Barlow’s Portrait of Yo Mama as a Young Man, perhaps the most penetrating and insightful analysis of yo mama the western world has seen in nearly a decade. Not since Jared Diamond’s Civilization: Yo Mama at the Gates have we seen such a compelling and detailed portrait of this historical and cultural enigma.
For decades we have known how fat she is, how dumb she is, how poor and old and flatulent she is. But what is her significance? What is the essence, the meaning, the context for yo mama? This unflinching and unyielding tome has the answers.
“A comprehensive and compelling case for the preemptive invasion of yo mama - the kind I launched last night.” – Kenneth M. Pollack, Brookings Institute
“A strong and much-called-for rebuttal to the thousands of yo mama apologists in the so-called ‘liberal’ media.” – Eric Alterman, The Nation
“At last, I can finally die.” – The Pope
posted by the Medium Lobster at 5:03 PM
The Medium Lobster has traveled the length and breadth of space and time as you know it, and in my travels have encountered countless beings in search of enlightenment asking countless questions. But the one I am always asked, without fail, is, "Is it possible to harness homosexuality for military purposes?"
Indeed it is. Gayness is such a powerfully destructive force - last known to be threatening the destruction of no less than marriage, family, Western civilization, the earth, and Baby God - that it easily outstrips the raw explosive power of the strong nuclear force currently unleashed in the detonation of a hydrogen bomb. Weaponizing pure Gay would certainly add a powerful and dangerous new tool to America's military arsenal in the global war on terror. But at what price? Although the idea was toyed with during the Clinton administration, it was ultimately - and wisely - rejected, for the use of such a deadly and catastrophically powerful force for any purpose would surely result in a queer apocalypse of flaming proportions.
Civilization's self-restraint will not be enough, however. There is still the threat of a terrorist or rogue state developing the capability to unleash a Gay Bomb upon the free world - a nightmare scenario we must avoid at all costs. The United States must organize a massive international effort to contain gay proliferation before it is too late, before we have a Gay 9/11 on our hands.
Labels: the rainbow peril
posted by the Medium Lobster at 2:16 PM
ZOOM! Up in the sky – is it a bird? A plane? No, it’s LifeMan, protector of all things good and politically expedient!
“Look there, old chum!” says Life Man scannin the world with his super-secret lifemovision! “Down at the ReddiMart – it’s my arch-nemesis, Dr. Prescripto, and he’s endangering the unconceived!”
“This looks like a job for LifeMan!” says me!
“Here you go, children!” cackles the evil Dr. Prescripto. “These are birth control pills… with them you can have rampant promiscuous premarital sex without getting prrrrregnant! MWA-HAHAHAHAHA!”
“Stop right there, Prescripto!” says LifeMan. “Sperm cells may have only half the soul of a fetus, but there’s billions more of them – making your reckless war against unwanted pregnancy a cosmic genocide!”
“Maybe so, LifeMan, but you’re powerless to stop me!” says the evil Dr. Prescripto twirlin his mustache!
“Hardly, villain!” says LifeMan blastin the baddie with his zealotzap ray! “I’ve staffed this pharmacy with good, decent people who won’t give your sperm-murdering pills to anyone!”
“Noooo! Foiled again!” says Dr. Prescripto explodin in a puff a smoke.
“Now to take down the threat of Masturbatron – and the nefarious menstruation cycle!” says LifeMan.
“LifeMan, you have to help me!” says a little Muslim boy runnin up to us. “My father is being tortured to death by soldiers who have occupied our country!”
“This looks like a job for LifeMan!” says me!
“It sure does, little friend!” says LifeMan. “Police, please arrest this boy. He may have information vital to national security.”
posted by fafnir at 11:36 AM
Or just buy him food and medicine, which is almost as good. Alameida, the bejeweled mystery-queen of the blogosphere!, is hosting a Gary Farber Fundraising Drive, complete with gifts, over at Unfogged. Go there! Some day when you are released into Gary Farber's den and he is prepared to eat you he the mighty and savage king of the internet will spare you for the good turn you've shown him today.
posted by fafnir at 8:38 AM
Monday, March 28, 2005
We missed it last Friday, but Fafblog is now two years old. How the time has flown! But our first and only blog contest still hasn't ended, and Giblets's cheetos remain unclaimed. Will no one harvest their forbidden if stale deliciousness?
posted by fafnir at 9:17 AM
Freedom is ever-marching, and its latest target for emancipation is none other than the Gulag Academia, where millions of students are held hostage by totalitarian educators whose cruel practice of teaching them things they don't already believe could soon be put to an end.
Florida Republicans are considering passing an "Academic Freedom Bill of Rights" which will give college students the power to sue "dictator professors" who offend their beliefs by teaching material which contradicts them. The Medium Lobster hails this as a measure long overdue. For far too long, higher education has been concerned with "education" and "instruction," mere euphemisms for harsh indoctrination into the totalitarian ideology of Fact. But now students will be given the tools to fight back, to free themselves of their oppressive enslavement to a world in which life evolved over millions of years through natural selection, dinosaurs weren't wiped out six thousand years ago by the flood of Noah, and the evil Xemu was not responsible for the existence of body thetans.
Will students learn more in such an environment? Of course not. If any thin-skinned adolescent can mau-mau his educators into avoiding any subject that fails to reinforce his own prejudices, universities will be engaged in the antithesis of teaching. But this is precisely the point: America has done so much to oppose tyranny in the form of earthly despots that it can only proceed to liberate humanity from the greatest dictator of all: Reality, which tyrannically insists that man acknowledge That Which Is rather than That Which Would Be More Convenient For Us.
Freed from the tyranny of Reality and the dangerous threat of its advance guard, Information, America's youth will be free to live in a world consisting solely of their own pre-existing beliefs, where messy ideological review and examination of fact have become unnecessary. As usual, the Bush administration has been admirably and ably leading the charge in this direction for years.
posted by the Medium Lobster at 8:16 AM
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Well the only people who showed up were me, Giblets an the Wandering Jew an tryin to make small talk wth the Wandering Jew for three hours is no way to spend your birthday, especially when all he wants to talk about is his two-thousand-year-old collection of antique flatware. You'd think he woulda done somethin cool like met some king or fought in a war or somethin but instead all he's done is got together this buncha old spoons. You're not makin the best of a bad situation, Wandering Jew.
posted by fafnir at 7:12 PM
Saturday, March 26, 2005
So the Pope couldn't make it out to Good Friday yesterday. He is described as "ailing" and "frail" but "still lucid." At last the Pope's one true weakness is revealed: weakness!
Your powers are weak, old man! Enfeebled by age, the Pope can no longer summon the sheer force of will needed to mind-control the Catholic Church or bring Ritual Jesus back from the dead every Easter. But Giblets can... and Giblets will, when he becomes the next Pope!
Oh, you'll hear plenty of arguments for replacing this Pope with just another dumb ol' regular Pope, or a super-efficient Robopope, or the unearthly tidal pull of the Moon Pope. All lies and dross! Only Giblets can complete the circle. Only Giblets can drag mankind to salvation as Pope Giblets the First! Behold the new Gibletsian papacy!
On Church and State: The Catholic Church has gotten way too loose about this lately. Pope Giblets will make the delineation perfectly clear: God owns your Church AND your State, and Pope Giblets controls God with his super-God-control Pope hat! Pope Giblets will make this clear on his first official Holy Pantsing of the President.
On Wars: The Pope hasn't declared a decent holy war in ages. What fun is that! Giblets will declare two a year every year to make up for lost time. Let the holy blood flow in rivers! First up: Denmark. Their deliciously buttery cookies are an offense to Jesus.
On Hats: The old Pope is too old to wear the sacred Pope hat: it is too mighty and would crush his feeble brain. What is the use of a Pope-hatless Pope! None, that is what. Giblets will wear the Pope hat everywhere: to breakfast, to pants the President, to the ensquashification of Denmark. Giblets will totally work that Pope hat.
Some will call Giblets a "controversial choice" what with his radical views and his not being Catholic. But Giblets will eat those people and add them to his own considerable power.
posted by Giblets at 3:21 PM
So I didn’t say anythin about Jesus wreckin my birthday yesterday cause yknow it was Good Friday with the dyin an the crown a thorns an all an I figured Jesus should get an extra day outta that. But then somebody told me Jesus swiped today too which is totally unfair. Jesus didn’t even do anything today, he just got to be dead. That’s not Holy Saturday. That’s not even work! Grabbin a Saturday for just lazin around in the underworld is just greedy.
So I’m takin Holy Saturday for myself from now on. Tell everybody you know cause it’s not Jesus’s anymore. From now on it’s Fafnir’s Birthday 2: The Prequel and it is celebrated in honor of the day when I pick out the streamers an the ice cream an stuff for Fafnir’s Birthday 1 which is a lot trickier than you'd think cause we get a lotta ice cream. In fact I’m thinkin a takin the rest a Holy Week too. Good Friday can be National Dairy Cow Day cause we really don’t appreciate our dairy cows enough an maybe we would if they had a whole day for it. Maundy Thursday can be, I dunno, Be Nice To Philatelists Day on accounta there’s a lotta anti-philatelist prejudice out there.
posted by fafnir at 11:35 AM
Friday, March 25, 2005
It's good to know that even in these dark times, when California and New York City are preparing to join Massachusetts in caving to the forces of Big Gay, that some are still standing up for the forces of Western Civilization, protecting and serving humanity by constantly asking the question, "What basic rights can we strip from gay Americans today?"
Today's ray of hope comes to us from the Alabama Legislature, which is considering a proposal to ban gay adoptions in the state. As Mac Thomason points out, adoption of children by gay couples is already prohibited by Alabama's existing marriage ban, but this measure will helpfully crush those last few single stragglers thinking of raising a child.
Some may spend some misguided sympathy on the plight of a would-be gay parent, but only after forgetting the true victims of gay adoption: the adopted children, taken away from the comfort of an orphanage or an endless succession of foster homes to be raised by a gay parent - a malicious influence set on assimilating all within its reach into the vast phalanx of the Gay.
As all truly informed gayologists know, the Gay convert others to their massive, hive-like collective by implanting the young with gay nanobots, which reproduce and take over the brains of the young, inevitably transforming right, proper, heterosexual brains into diseased Gay brains, infested with bacterial bath houses and camp subcultures. With this fearsome dedication to assimilating all that is right and normal, no child can be left in the care of the Gay be any just society. (From this we can conclude that gays inevitably raise and recruit gay childen, and that gay children are raised and recuited by gays. To Dick Cheney and Alan Keyes: you are fooling no one.)
But is prohibiting gay adoptees enough? What about gay uncles, gay aunts, gay neighbors, gay friends? How can humanity protect its children from the Gay Menace when children may still be unwittingly exposed to gay people on any streetcorner? Only by either wrapping all children across the world in enormous layers of thick, gayproof padding, blinding them from contact with non-straights until the age of thirty, or by rounding up all gays everywhere and placing them in specialized degayification camps. As one of these options is patently absurd, the only sane response is self-evident.
posted by the Medium Lobster at 8:40 AM
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
- Connect tab A to tab B.
- Mix eggs, sugar and milk.
- Climb the tallest mountain in all the land.
- Now meditate on your mountain experience! It has been a huge waste of time.
- Dice three carrots and add them to the stew.
- You can't dice carrots! You're still on the mountain. Who told you to leave the mountain?
- Eat twelve hot dogs in thirty seconds, then throw up, then tell your grandchildren the epic tale!
- Oh no! While you were on the mountain everybody forgot your birthday. Be sad for two turns.
- There are over 13,000 elk in Washington's Yakima elk herd. Name them.
- Tell the lion that it must spare your life because though it is hungry and mighty and though you are small and weak there once was a time when you showed it mercy by pullin a thorn from its paw. It'll fall for it, lions are dumb like that.
- Dice two onions; now throw them out. This recipe does not use onions.
- Take a break! You've earned it.
- No, no, no, you're doing it all wrong!
- This bassoon once belonged to your father. Take it now, rise up against Baron von Scorpulae, and avenge his death!
- Now throw the monkey off the mountain. Don't tell me you forgot about the mountain!
- Add salt to taste.
- Make a calm and orderly exit until you get near the door. Then make a break for it! Calm and orderly exits are for suckers and lions.
- Call for your long lost love. He can't hear you, you're on a mountain!
- Add mountain and stir. Sprinkle cinnamon.
- Congratulations! You've made a paper crane, or a sock puppet. Chill before eating; serves four to six.
Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 8:59 PM
"Social Security will go bankrupt even sooner than ever before!" says Mr. Box.
"Oh no!" says me.
"One year earlier, in 2041."
An the doom an the horror an the big big wolves an the beast with seven heads an ten horns an the scarlet whore of Babylon an the snakes an the bears an the chutes an ladders an the hungry hungry hippos! Who can save us now!
posted by fafnir at 6:51 PM
Good news in Iraq: The US military may be overstretched and the Iraqi police force is untrained, but Iraqis themselves are starting to fight back against insurgents.
Ordinary Iraqis rarely strike back at the insurgents who terrorize their country. But just before noon today, a carpenter named Dhia saw a troop of masked gunmen with grenades coming towards his shop and decided he had had enough.And people say vigilantism is bad! You go, Iraqis!
posted by fafnir at 9:16 AM
Giblets has been transfixed - transfixed, I say! - by the grippingly ghoulish saga of Terry Schiavo. Giblets has watched her on the web, on CNN, on Fox, on C-SPAN and C-SPAN 2, and Giblets wants more! The coppery taste of compassionate conservatism is in the water, and Giblets is hungry for more! "If only it could last forever!" you say. Oh, but it can - and Giblets decrees that it SHALL!
Senators, from this day forth none of you will be allowed into Congress without dragging along AT LEAST one (1) vegetative American with a partially liquified brain. Remember, the more you bring with you, the more compassionate you are! You can use them however you want - wave them around, pose them in interesting shapes, demonstrate their need for private Social Security accounts - but you must use them AT ALL TIMES THROUGHOUT THE DAY. If you go without referencing them for thirty seconds, you must either stop to bounce them or pass them to another player on your team.
News media: from now on all your stories must be about Terry Schiavo or Terry Schiavo-related activities. If you are reporting on the war in Iraq, don't tell us if we're "winning" or "losing," tell us what would Terry Schiavo think of the war in Iraq? Can Terry Schiavo follow a balloon in Iraq? Even Saddam Hussein wouldn't unplug Terry Schiavo's feeding tube! Repeat for torture, climate change, UN rape scandals! Interrupt the stream of Schiavomation only for quick cuts of Hannity beating Colmes with an ape femur! Giblets wants to see Terry Schiavo on Larry King, on Leno, on Wheel of Fortune! Spin it, Vanna! Buy that girl an "E"!
Oh, sure, there are plenty of sensate human beings dying in horrible ways around the globe right now, but who cares about them? Iraq? Too foreign! Darfur? Too brown! Medicaid cuts? Too poor-y! Remember, one death is a tragedy, a million are a statistic, but one stretched out to an interminable length makes for endless hours of thrilling tragitainment!
posted by Giblets at 7:27 AM
Sunday, March 20, 2005
There will be no newsbloggin today on accounta this is a cuttin-edge newsblog that only deals with cuttin-edge news an news never happens on a Sunday. There's only one newsworthy thing ever to happen on a Sunday an that's Easter or Fafday which is Fafnir's birthday an that got ruined a coupla thousand years ago when Jesus came back from the dead on it. We were just passin out the punch an the party hats an everythin when Jesus shows up from his tomb with the hosannas an the angel dudes an the big tomb rock.
"Hey Jesus," says me. "If you'd like to sit down we were just gonna have some cake."
"Behold blah blah blah," says Jesus. "Verily blah blah blah."
"You can put your rock over there by the other presents," says me.
"God blah blah blah. Lo blah blah blah."
An a course all the other people at the party are all "Oh it is a sign oh it is the savior" an they all start takin off to be saints an martyrs an popes an stuff an we haven't even got to the presents yet. The only one who stayed around was Giblets an that was just cause he was hungry for cake.
Well this year's gonna be different! This year I'm gonna get lotsa presents an cake for my birthday an none of em are gonna be a rock. All of everybody is invited to come to Fafday for the cake an the painted eggs an the mashmallow bunnies an such. Except for Jesus. Lousy stinkin Jesus.
posted by fafnir at 3:07 PM
Ah, a beautiful Sunday afternoon - at least here in the Medium Lobster's plane of existence. How better to spend it than on the internet!
posted by the Medium Lobster at 2:12 PM
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Giblets, surprisingly enough, is outraged! Giblets just returned from seeing the IMAX documentary "Volcanoes," hoping to calm his jangly nerves with the soothing sight of exploding mountains of magma, only to be incensed by the heresies against established Gibletsian doctrine contained within!
Not once did the film acknowledge that lava flows are created by Oblos the Fire Monkey at the earth's core, or that continental drift is caused by the armies of mole men who dance for Giblets's amusement! The movie also maintained the mad fiction that complex life evolved over billions of years according to natural selection instead of being assembled in the distant future by the Machine Lords of the Gibletarium! Madness and heresy! Shock and horror!
Giblets calls for a full boycott of "Volcanoes" by all right and proper Giblets-fearing people and the immediate burning of all apostates involved in its production! In the meantime Gilblets orders the making of decent, accurate documentaries based on the proven, scientific accounts of the origin of the universe found in the holy tome and autobiography, Giblets: The Man, the Myth, the Me.
posted by Giblets at 2:14 PM
Thursday, March 17, 2005
In strict observance of St. Patrick's Day I will be spending most of today making merry with The Little People, magical sprites from a wee bit a heaven that fell down t'earth an God called it Ireland. I have been told they could be midgets forcefully painted green by those aggressively celebrating the spirit of the holiday but I choose to believe in the magic of the Emerald Isle. I have also been told that it is rude to refer to midgets as midgets. The sensitive term is "beastlings" or "fairywinkles."
posted by fafnir at 8:59 AM
Much of the commentary on Bush's recent appointment of Paul Wolfowitz to the head of the World Bank has focused on the question of whether Wolfowitz's appointment is either a calculated snub to war opponents or merely the haphazard disposal of a disgraced Pentagon official long fallen out of favor. Both possibilities miss the true mission for which Wolfowitz has been dispatched: to prepare the next wave of the neocon onslaught in a preventive war on money.
Indeed, Mr. Wolfowitz's vision for Iraq has been such a catastrophic success that it only makes sense to elevate him from his piffling number two spot in the Pentagon to a role where he can truly wield the spade of American power in the name of zealous global transformation: dispensing loans and grants to countries around the world. It is only a matter of time before Wolfowitz cannily utilizes his newfound power to organize a unilateral American invasion of the global monetary supply, complete with the kidnapping and torture of members of the International Monetary Fund, designed to trigger a "democratic domino effect" across the world of international finance.
But how qualified is Paul Wolfowitz to run the World Bank? At least as qualified as John Bolton is to handle his new duties as America's ambassador to the UN - duties which properly and naturally consist of mooning Kofi Annan at meetings of the Security Council.
posted by the Medium Lobster at 8:15 AM
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
"We ARE our leaders," says me on the alien spaceship. "Klaatu barada nikto!"
"It's true!" says Giblets. "Fafnir and Giblets blaze the trails that petty men must follow!"
"How fortunate to have found you on the first try!" says the aliens.
"We present you with this ceremonial offerin of Earth delicacies," says me.
"Behold the half-eaten danish an the styrofoam coffee cup!" says Giblets.
"This is quite strange and inedible," says the aliens.
"That's cause you're eatin it wrong," says me. "You're supposed to eat the crunchy white part first an the sugary caffeinated sludge second."
"They are befouling our rites!" says Giblets. "They are trampling upon our ancient rituals!"
"We meant no offense to you or your potentate," says the aliens. "Please forgive us."
"Well I dunno," says me. "We are a very sensitive people."
"Throw them to the lavabeasts!" says Giblets. "Make them Pass the Test!"
"We beg your understanding! We come in peace!" says the aliens.
"Your apology is accepted," says Giblets.
"We present you with this gift of a wacky wall-walker, Earth's most sacred creature," says me.
"Beware - it walks down walls!" says Giblets.
"We shall treasure it always," says the aliens. "But please - tell us of this Test."
"The initiates are divided into two teams of five players each," says me. "One team is called 'shirts' on accounta they wear shirts an the other is called 'skins' on accounta they wear the skins a their defeated opponents."
"They fight for possession of a ball with vast ceremonial significance," says Giblets. "Axes and firearms are barred by regulation."
"An then we release the dragons," says me.
"The winning team devours the guts of the losing team and adds their chi to its own," says Giblets, "after four rounds of tournament play."
"Your culture seems so advanced yet so barbaric," says the aliens.
"We're fulla paradoxes an complexities," says me. "Behold as we give life to this inanimate slinky!"
"And take it away again before it can fully traverse the stairs!" says Giblets.
"There is so much we could learn from you," says the aliens. "Allow us to meet the rest of your people."
"I dunno if you're ready to meet us," says me.
"We are far too advanced for your comprehension," says Giblets. "Our mysteries and enigmas would explode your tiny minds!"
"Perhaps some day in the future, when our own culture has sufficiently advanced to understand yours," says the aliens.
"It's a difficult journey to cosmic enlightenment an stuff," says me. "Just keep on chuggin there."
"Farewell mortal beings!" says Giblets. "Keep watching the skies!"
We leave em at the house with the others an take off in the ship on our never-endin mission a cosmic awareness.
Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 9:16 AM
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
From Katherine and Hilzoy at Obsidian Wings I hear Representative Edward Markey has a bill to ban "extraordinary rendition", the practice of shipping prisoners off to countries that torture people, asking em "you aren't gonna torture this guy, are you, wink wink" and then waiting for them to get tortured. Markey says more about it here.
Right now the bill has fifty-two co-sponsors. No Republicans have signed onto it so far and Dennis Hastert says he's opposed to it. They probably got a pretty good reason though. Like maybe the torture jobs we send overseas will help build up the foreign torture markets so overseas torturers can get better salaries an buy more goods an help their economies in developin countries an such. Global torture lifts everybody's boat and we all win the end! Or just turn into monsters.
You can write your congressman here.
posted by fafnir at 7:00 PM
There's a bomb on the streets of Hypotheticopolis - a ticking bomb! - and only Giblets can stop it! But time is running out and in order to find it Giblets may have to resort to the first weapon of last resort: torture. But oh how to apply it in this delicate moral quandry!
Detainee #0001: ABU MUHAMMED AL-HITLER. An evil Islamist Nazi space beast from space, only he knows the location of the secret marble-sized Death Bomb that could explode the world at any moment! He is also made of poison and eats babies by the bucket! TORTURE or NOT TORTURE? Giblets doesn't have to think about this one - he's made of poison, people! Giblets will of course regret this terrible violation of human rights and civil liberties, almost as much as he will regret enjoying it.
Detainee #0002: ABU MOHAMMED AL-HITLER. So Giblets grabbed the wrong al-Hitler the first time. How was Giblets supposed to know Muhammed was such a common name! But now Giblets has his man! - probably! - and he isn't talking. TORTURE or NOT TORTURE? There is no question about it with the zillions of lives at stake! The good of the many! The good of the one! But oh how Giblets feels for human rights! Giblets will pour one out for his human rights homies when he is done.
Detainees #0003-#0026: A BUSLOAD OF GUYS WHO MIGHT HANG OUT WITH ABU MOHAMMED AL-HITLER. Okay, so that last guy didn't seem to know anything either. But we've grabbed this bus coming out of the Terror District in Terrortown and some of these guys gotta be terrorists! Right now all of 'em deny everything, but that's just what you'd expect of the lousy terrorist buddies of a baby-eating Nazi. TORTURE or NOT TORTURE? Well, it's a big bus! Some of 'em have to deserve it, so bring it on - we still have a ticking bomb to find! 'Course there's gonna be innocent victims which will be a terrible tragedy. Oh, the fog of war, oh the eggs and omelettes! Mmmm, omelettes. Giblets could really go for one of those right about now.
Detainee #0027: DR. PEPPER. Nothin' feels better in the middle of a long hard day of torture than a tall frosty glass of Dr. Pepper. The only thing this prisoner is aiding and abetting is refreshment!
Detainee #0028: PIZZA MAN JOE. The bus terrorists were useless! But they did give Giblets the name of Pizza Man Joe, the pizza delivery man who may very well have delivered hot, deliciously Islamist pizza to Abu Mohammed al-Hitler at his secret bomb base! He claims he doesn't remember where he dropped off those sleeper-cell cinnamon stix, but a little torture ought to jog his memory! TORTURE or NOT TORTURE? This isn't some ordinary pizza guy. He's the pizza guy of terror. And there are the estimated one point five squillion innocent lives! Blah blah human rights blah.
Detainee #0029: ME. Pizza Man Joe has told Giblets nothing! - or has he? Maybe he told Giblets exactly where to find the ticking bomb but Giblets is holding it back because Giblets has gone over to the other side! TORTURE or NOT TORTURE? Oh, sure, Giblets might look innocent, but we can't take any chances with jabillions of lives in the balance! Besides, where'd Giblets get all this experience torturing people? That's for terrorists! This might take a while - I got a feelin' I'm gonna be a tough nut to crack.
posted by Giblets at 5:51 PM
Monday, March 14, 2005
August 17, 1939 – Tangier
I been runnin for a while now an I figure the coast's clear when I'm headin back to my hotel. I'll go upstairs, grab the jaguar statue, maybe get a bagel or a muffin from the lobby, then head on back to the airport an get outta here. I been in this city too long anyhow.
I'm steppin outta the room when I figure out I'm not alone. It's the moose, an he's found me.
"You've got a lot to learn about this city, Mr. Fafnir," says the moose. "This town, well, it's a moose town. And when you come at the moose, Mr. Fafnir, you'd better not miss."
September 20, 1961 – Belgrade
I'm at the bar mindin my business when the moose shows up. He sits next to me an orders his drink.
"I didn’t come here lookin for trouble," says me.
"Well maybe I did," says the moose.
I don't know what to say after that so I just keep starin on ahead. The moose coughs. I order a coke but they only have Pepsi which is kinda disappointin on accounta I never liked Pepsi. The moose starts whistlin an ol showtune but forgets how it goes. I get up sayin I gotta go to the bathroom but instead I just go home.
December 15, 1978 – Moscow
The moose has tied me to a bomb an he's gonna set it off, oh no!
"Mwa-hahahahaha!" says the moose.
"Oh you will never get away with this the moose," says me.
"Oh-hohohohoho!" says the moose.
"Oh you will certainly pay for your dastardly crimes," says me.
"Eh-hehehehehe!" says the moose.
Course the bomb doesn't go off an the moose gets real sad. "Christmas is ruined forever," says the moose. "Oh it's not that bad," says me. We decorate it up real nice an pretty soon it's the sweetest little Christmas tree in town.
April 24, 1996 – Newark
"Hey!" says me to the moose. "What're you doin in my house!"
The moose is just wakin up on the couch. There's chips an beer cans an pizza boxes all over the room. "Aw man," says the moose. "I didn't know you’d be gettin home so quick."
I start foldin my arms an tappin my foot like so.
"Dude, I kinda had to use your credit card a little," says the moose on his way to the bathroom, "but I can totally pay you back." Man am I sick a this moose.
Labels: true adventures
posted by fafnir at 9:13 PM
Reports of American torture and complicity in torture have become increasingly alarming, as new information reveals the widespread participation of the CIA in torturing prisoners, rendering them to other countries to be tortured, kidnapping them from other countries to be rendered to other countries, hiding them from oversight as "ghost detainees" - most of these activities either duplicated by or in conjunction with the United States military. As a pattern of systematic torture and abuse emerges within the intelligence and security community, we are forced to ask ourselves: is America doing enough torture?
Each of the several hundred cases of torture documented so far was surely a matter of urgent national security, indicating that hundreds of terrorist cells have been broken up with the cunning and skillful application of electrical cords and broomstick handles. But this cannot be enough. For every bomb plot foiled by cleverly sodomizing a prisoner with a chemical light, there surely must be a dozen more dirty bombs and anthrax attacks waiting in the wings. The forces of freedom need more boots on the ground, and they need those boots to be kicking emaciated prisoners in the groin.
Since torture is an effective, morally acceptable means to prevent terror, the only problem with our current policy is that it fails to torture all terrorists. America must cast a wider net over the Arab world, building bigger and better facilities - camps, if you will - in which we can detain and torture as many terrorists as possible, limiting its targets to terrorists, suspected terrorists, associates of suspected terrorists, associates of associates of suspected terrorists, family members of associates of associates of suspected terrorists, and people with names very close to those of terrorists, suspected terrorists, associates of suspected terrorists, associates of associates of suspected terrorists, and family members of associates of associates of suspected terrorists. This would be a massive, international effort to stamp out evil, the likes of which has not been seen since the time of World War II, and while America has already begun to cooperate with other nations to achieve multilateral torture over the last few years, the project should be expanded greatly, as the full number of possible terrorists could be as high as one billion.
It would be difficult, and perhaps even impossible, to maintain the secrecy of such a massive undertaking, but the Medium Lobster doesn't see this as much of an obstacle. The majority of Americans appear to be either supportive of or indifferent to torture, as evidenced by the solid majority of senators who confirmed a solidly pro-torture attorney general, and would surely welcome another weapon in the anti-Islamist arsenal. Oh, the reactionary Left would wail and moan about its "international law" and its "human rights," but the true face of America would look to a strong, secure future, right before getting bashed in with a cudgel.
posted by the Medium Lobster at 12:28 PM
Giblets feels for China right now. Giblets is also the legitimate ruler of a country which does not recognize his sovereignty: the United States. Also Canada, Mexico, the UK, France, Germany, Russia, Brazil, the Czech Republic, the Dominican Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Poland, Mongolia, Tibet, Belgium, the Netherlands, Norway, Ukraine, Georgia, Iraq, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Peru, Colombia, the Vatican, Belize, Burkina Faso, Chad, Somalia, Gambia, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Malawi, Panama, the Marshall Islands, the Solomon Islands, Palau, Swaziland, China, Taiwan, Leprechonia, and the Moon – oh, the insolence of the Moon!
These breakaway provinces and possibly some others Giblets has momentarily forgotten are in a state of rebellion against Giblets which cannot be tolerated! Thus Giblets has passed the Anti-Secession Law of the People’s Republic of Gibletsia, which authorizes Giblets to use military force on those nations who will not re-unify peacefully with him. Giblets stands ready to deploy the army of Gibletsia – last estimated at around 6.5 billion – to retake what is his.
Giblets also chooses to reveal at this time that he is married to numerous wives and mistresses including any number of ex-girlfriends, supermodels, mythological entities, and that hot chick Giblets saw on the subway last week, all of whom have inexplicably separated themselves from Giblets. If they do not remarry Giblets peacefully, Giblets is prepared to authorize himself to club them over the head and drag them back to his cave.
posted by Giblets at 11:32 AM
So a hundred years from now me an Giblets are talkin bout Dan Rather.
"Who's Dan Rather?" says Giblets.
"He was that guy on the TV," says me. "Yknow that reporter they let read the news."
"Giblets rejects your fantastic tale!" says Giblets. "Why would we need a reporter to read the news when we have the sonorous efficacy of the newsmobots!"
"I like the newsmobots," says me, "but I can't pick between the gentle lull of the Brokawbot and the knowing wink of the Jenningsoid."
"Your antiquated network news droids pale before the might of the cable babblebots!" says Giblets. "Where else can Giblets watch Bad Bill Factor battle Savage Matthews for the right to fight Mad Lord Hannity to the death in the heart of Pundidome!"
"Now that's journalism," I says. "It tells a simple yet compelling story that relates to me."
"Stories like what's happening to Michael Jackson? What's Michael Jackson doing today? How does the CIA's illegal kidnapping and torture of foreign nationals affect Michael Jackson?" says Giblets.
"Dan Rather did a story about torture way back in the day," says me.
"I remember that one," says Giblets. "It was like, 'Hey everybody torture is great, you should try it'."
"He also did that thing on that dead Kennedy guy," says me.
"Oh yeah!" says Giblets. "He was that guy from the Dead Kennedys!"
"Sometimes I miss the ol days," says me. "Back when news was new an reporters reported an everybody hadn't got eaten by the Monstrolords."
"Our democratically-elected Monstrolords," says Giblets. "And I'm sure they had a very good reason for it."
"A good reason that we'll get to watch tonight on the news," says me.
Labels: amused to death
posted by fafnir at 8:16 AM